


Hot as A Smoking Gun

by Salmon_I



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blood Kink, F/M, Gunplay, Improvised Sex Toys, Knifeplay, Oral Sex, Weapons Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2020-09-06 02:10:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20283676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_I/pseuds/Salmon_I
Summary: The doors gave another ping and slid shut. Neither Switzerland or Belarus gave any acknowledgement to the interruption. Then Belarus brought her other hand up - back facing out - and moved the knife to it. She drew the shallowest of slices down the back - a  thin line of red left in her wake.Switzerland`s eyes widened and could only watch, enraptured, as she brought the hand to her mouth. Her tongue slid across her skin, lapping up the blood, her eyes glittered darkly as she met his. "I find it most efficient." She murmured.Switzerland lowered the gun slowly, barely holding off the urge to focus on her mouth when her tongue wet her lips. Wet and warm and no doubt still tasting of blood. A taste he wanted to share, badly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was on the Kink Meme ages ago, and I did de-anon it previously to another site. I'm slowly starting to cross-post more of my work here, though, and I actually always loved this piece.

To say he'd never noticed her would be a lie. Switzerland always evaluated potential threats carefully. And anyone with half a brain would classify Belarus as a threat. To say he'd never noticed her as a Nation would also not be entirely true. They had diplomatic offices in each other's capitals, after all. What was true, however, is that he had never stopped to consider her as a woman. It had been the Al Mar Shiva. Her threatening Latvia was business as usual. The Al Mar Shiva she pulled out, however, was new. He’d been looking at that model himself. He wouldn't have gone out of his way to approach her, but as chance would have it, they met alone on the elevator exiting the conference.

He contemplated the possible responses, and released the safety on his gun before turning to her. "I couldn't help but notice your knife earlier."

Belarus only spared him a cold, disinterested glance. "I am certain Latvia noticed it more."

Though morbid, he couldn't help but appreciate the humor in her response. "A point." He returned, and waited.

Belarus didn't disappoint him, her lips twitched, and she glanced at him in both suspicion and interest. "A sharp one." She responded. Whether she meant the knife or him was open to interpretation.

"It's a fixed blade Al Mar Shiva, isn't it?"

Belarus nodded warily. "It is. Why?"

"I read that it's the first fixed blade with laminated VG-10 stainless steel. How does it handle?"

The knife was suddenly in her hand, and Switzerland moved swiftly into a guarded position - gun raised and pointed at the other nation`s coolly detached face. The elevator gave a ping, doors parting. Spain and South Italy stared at the scene in front of them.

"Um… Switzerland, Belarus, what are you-" Spain began, but South Italy quickly cut him off.

"We`ll take the next elevator. Kill each other on your own time, bastards!"

The doors gave another ping and slid shut. Neither Switzerland or Belarus gave any acknowledgement to the interruption. Then Belarus brought her other hand up - back facing out - and moved the knife to it. She drew the shallowest of slices down the back - a thin line of red left in her wake.

Switzerland`s eyes widened and could only watch, enraptured, as she brought the hand to her mouth. Her tongue slid across her skin, lapping up the blood, her eyes glittered darkly as she met his. "I find it most efficient." She murmured.

Switzerland lowered the gun slowly, barely holding off the urge to focus on her mouth when her tongue wet her lips. Wet and warm and no doubt still tasting of blood. A taste he wanted to share, badly. But Belarus was still a threat, and still had the knife in her hand, and he kept his gaze steady, gun lowered but still set to shoot.

"Perhaps you'd like to test it yourself sometime." The words hung between them until the elevator gave another ping. Suddenly the knife disappeared and when the doors opened, Belarus exited - steps graceful but purposeful, no hint of the moment they'd just shared. Then she paused, turning partway back to him. "Let me know."

Switzerland exited the elevator, letting it slide shut behind him. Bringing up his gun, he turned the safety back on, watching her until she'd disappeared from sight.

* * *

To say she planned it would be untrue. But at the same time wouldn't exactly be a lie. It wasn’t as if she had never realized Switzerland was attractive before that encounter, simply that the piece of information was unimportant. Handsome nation; very nice weapons; strictly political ties. But his interest in her Al Mar Shiva knife. The look in his eyes when she'd made that shallow slice. No fear; no revulsion. Only interest. Perhaps even a little bit of lust.

Suddenly she needed to know more. So maybe she had planned to catch his attention the next meeting. Which was why it was so unfair that he brought the Sig Sauer P226 Elite Dark. Because she had plans, but she didn't get to try a single one. All meeting, all she could do was look at that pistol. And the way he ran his hands over it. Like a lover would. Caress; stroke; repeat. And the way he circled and nudged the bolts. Her nipples were hard from just watching.

Her attempts to turn her attention from the distraction he was quickly becoming failed for multiple reasons. Her sister took the meetings too seriously to talk during. Most of the other nations were either scared of her, or completely uninteresting. And her beloved Russia was nowhere to be found during the breaks. Frustrated in multiple ways, she threw planning to the wind, and instead let her knife breach the subject with the stoic nation.

Switzerland froze when he felt the knife in his back, but not even a single quiver betrayed the slightest hint of fear. "Take the doorway to your left."

"Most Nations would start with, 'Do you have a moment?'." He quipped, tone perfectly even.

"If you like." Belarus pressed the knife point closer. "Do you have a moment, Switzerland?"

"That depends, is this a private conversation?"

The knife moved slowly upward, indenting, but not slicing, the material of his jacket. "A very private conversation." The words were a low promise.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Suddenly he rolled forward, away from her knife point. With a hiss of displeasure, Belarus began to follow, but found herself looking down the very pistol that had distracted her all day. Switzerland faced her over the barrel of the gun, and she slowly lowered the knife, a displeased scowl darkening her features. Both his expression and tone were even when he opened the door she'd indicated. "Ladies first."

Turning her nose up, she entered the room, and Switzerland slowly followed. The room itself was merely a break room. Couches and chairs surrounded low tables, but though the room was obviously cleaned it was also obviously unused. The curtains were drawn, and there were no cups on the tables. She'd found it while searching for Russia during the break, but only luck could be contributed for Switzerland taking the hallway on his way out of the building when the meeting adjourned for the day.

Her thoughts were disrupted when a hand brushed her hair from the side of her neck and face. She felt her heart speed up at the simple gesture. Ignoring it, she glanced to the side, but the other nation remained frustratingly out of sight. "Is the safety on that gun?"

"I'd have to be a fool to leave the safety on when facing you."

"And are you a fool?"

"Not fool enough to fire a shot to prove myself. Especially since that might bring someone to interrupt our… private conversation."

"Good." She couldn't keep the pleased tone from her voice. "Though it would be better if you locked the door." The click that followed was like music to her ears. But the warmth of the body that pressed against hers from behind was even better.

"You seem to be quite focused on my pistol." One arm wrapped around her, laying the weapon against her throat.

"It is a bit distracting."

"A good distraction?" The gun trailed downward along her neck and collarbone, despite the clothes in the way.

"A most pleasant distraction." Came the reply.

The gun continued its path; traced the curve of her breast, settling below it and pressing upwards. It nudged along the lower curve, moving one breast - lightly at first, but firmer as she leaned back against him, letting out a low moan. Lips moved over the curve of her ear as the gun continued it's prodding. "You are a most pleasant distraction."

She turned her head, finding his own ear. "I want you to caress me as you do that pistol." She murmured. The edge of the muzzle flicked over her nipple and her breath caught in her throat. But her words seemed to have had the desired effect. He reached up to undo the bow around her neck, sliding it off and tossing it aside. The gun slid down again, pressing between her dress and cumberband until it was lodged safely. Leaving it there, he moved his hands to her wrists, unbuttoning first one cuff, then the other, before sliding slowly up her sides to start on the buttons on the back of her dress.

Belarus let one hand move to the gun, sliding her fingers over the handle protruding from the cloth. Switzerland pressed his lips to the back of her neck and she gripped the handle of the gun more firmly, still not moving it. His lips continued downward as he continued to unbutton the dress, until the cumberband blocked the path. "Are you holding it?"

"And if I'm not?"

"I'd be disappointed."

Belarus smirked, tightening her grip, tracing the trigger but not placing her finger on it. "I'm holding it."

His breath puffed across her skin, sped up by her words, and he set to work on her ties. A moment later the cumberband and apron fluttered to the floor. Stepping over them, and out of Switzerland's hold, Belarus turned, holding up the gun and sighting down the barrel.

"The jacket. Take it off."

A small smile curved the corners of his mouth as he reached up to unbutton his jacket. She kept sighting down the gun, watching as he spread it open, revealing a sleeveless shirt underneath. She'd only had the barest of glimpse of pale skin stretched over lean muscle before the jacket was whipped off and thrown right at her. She dodged to the side, but a firm hand gripped over the wrist of the hand holding the gun, pulling her forward.

Switzerland's mouth crashed over hers as she fell into his chest, lips insistent and warm. The arm not in his grasp wrapped around his shoulders as his wound around her waist. She opened her mouth, nipping at his lower lip. "Are you always this slow?" She tormented.

Chuckling, he pulled her closer to him. "Wouldn't the couch be more comfortable?" He countered, before kissing her again. She could feel his hand working on the last of her buttons and she deepened the kiss briefly, tongues sliding together, before pulling back. He released his hold on her and she turned the gun over - offering him the handle. He took it, but followed her as she moved backward, sliding the dress off her shoulders and letting it follow the previous discarded clothing to the floor.

He clicked the safety back on as they worked on the rest of their clothing. "Spoil sport." Belarus teased as they sunk onto the cushions.

He silenced her with another kiss, hands stroking over skin now. Belarus returned in same, nails tracing over the outline of muscles, digging into soft skin when his lips trailed downward, taking a breast into the warmth of his mouth. "How wet are you?" He murmured.

"So quick?" She countered, but could only moan when his fingers ghosted over her groin, fingers sliding through her wet opening but pulling out almost immediately. Any words of reproach were cut off in a harsh gasp, body jolting, when something cold was slid between her legs, rubbing against her, coating it in her fluids. "What?"

"A sound suppressor." His lips settled below her ear. "Titanium." She shivered, but her hips bucked up into his. She could feet the heat of his erection against her hip. "Do you want it?"

"Do it, already." Her voice was harsh with desire. 

He started slowly, pressing only a small piece in before pulling it out. Her body was more than ready, though, and it didn't take long before he was pumping it in and out of her. She bit her lip hard, trying to suppress the cries, but soon she couldn't hold back. Hips bucking with need as the metal tube slid in and out of her opening, body tightening tighter.

"Don't you want-" She gasped out.

"This..." His voice was practically a growl, lips and teeth grazing over her skin.

She let go, voice keening through release, hands digging into his arms. A few minutes passed as she caught her breath. His own was heated against her skin as he pulled the suppressor out, dropping it to the floor. Her body twitched, oversensitive to the sensation after release. Another minute passed before she could move to sit up, regaining control of her limbs. He backed up, and she knew he hadn't found release of his own yet. Her hand found the gun on the table, bringing it up to her lips as she gazed at him.

Her lips moved along the barrel first, only pressure against the hard gun. Then her tongue flicked out, tasting the metal, flicking over edges, teeth biting down on one ridge before she took the muzzle into her mouth. Her eyes never left his, and he groaned, pressing into the couch. She slid her mouth downward, taking in the barrel slowly, then drawing back up, teasing..

"Belarus!" He hissed.

Smirking she pulled the gun out, setting it back down, and moved toward him. "Do you want it?" She returned his earlier words.

He reached out a hand, thumb flickering over her lips. "Do it, already."

Apparently two could play such word games. She felt her lips curve into a smile, before she leaned down, and swallowed the head of his cock with her lips. Switzerland gave a shout, hands gripping the couch as she moved her head down, then back up. Her tongue flicked over the head, followed a vein down the underside. His groans prodded her to speed up. Pistoning her head up and down, fingers playing with the hair surrounding it, before curving around the base. Pumping up and down as her lips closed tighter, sucking. One fist thumped into the couch hard enough to make a loud bang as he came with a cry of his own.

Belarus swallowed down what she could, wiping the corner of her mouth as she moved to sit up. He caught her before she could, drawing her down to bury his face in her neck. As their breathing returned to normal, she heard a murmur from him she couldn't discern.

"Speak clearly if you're going to speak."

For a moment he was silent, and she thought he might not repeat the words. "Why? Why me? Just the gun?"

"It helped." She turned her head to look out across the room, eyes softened by desire and contemplation. "But also… you aren't him." He was silent, and she pulled back to gaze down at him. "And you?"

He trailed a finger through her long hair, his own face thoughtful. "You aren't either of them." He responded.

For a moment the silence was heavy, then she laid back down, cushioning her head on his chest this time. "What other guns do you have?"

When his arms wrapped around her, she knew it was understood between them that this wouldn't be a one time encounter. It excited and saddened her at the same time.


	2. Chapter 2

Splotches of red decorated pale white skin. Leopard spots of smeared blood. Belarus was lounging in his bed, studying his work with a mixture of amusement and arousal. Switzerland pricked another spot on her arm, watching as her eyes fluttered - a brief flash of pain followed by a flush of warmth. He waited for the drop of red to swell to the surface of her skin, before reaching out to press his thumb to the tiny cut, smearing the blood again. Belarus shivered, as the pressure gave a repeat of the sensations the knife had.

In the last few months, what they'd begun so suddenly had become habitual. At first only finding time for each other during the meetings, but later seeking each other out between. Before he probably could not have given precise instructions to the other nation's house, and now he was certain he could find his way blindfolded.

Another knick, another smudge. The cuts are shallow, most not bleeding beyond the first drops of blood he`s smeared. All the same, his thumb was stained with red when Belarus suddenly took ahold of the hand and brought it to her mouth. Warmth enveloped his thumb, the wet muscle of her tongue stroking and dancing around the digit. Switzerland`s breath caught in his throat at the sensation, and she met his gaze - eyes twinkling in something akin to victory.

His back hit the sheets as she pushed him down, taking the knife from him. She trailed it along his collarbone, not hard enough to cut, only to sensitize the skin. Her fingers then followed the same path, pressing slightly, causing a phantom feeling of the touch of the knife again. She trailed the knife down his arm next, but paused at his forearm. A flash of pain as the knife was pressured enough to cut was followed by a slight sting as her mouth descended on the shallow slice. Her tongue lathed the cut first, before her lips surrounded it, sucking the blood from the wound.

It was pleasure and pain at once - the feeling of her lips and slight tug on his skin combined with the sting of the blood being drawn from the cut. Switzerland let out a groan, and she released the arm slowly, turning to him. Her eyes were dark with lust as she straddled his thighs, lips tainted red. His hand threaded through her hair, cupping the back of her head as he drew her down for a kiss. Her mouth tasted of blood and the tang that was simply her, and he revealed in the combination. There was a clatter as the knife hit the floor and then her nails were digging into his arms, and she was pressing closer. The swell of her breasts firm against his chest, and he brought his free hand around to trail down her spine. She gasped into the kiss, body sliding against his, a mixture of smooth landscapes and pleasant curves that he was well on his way to memorizing.

She nipped at his tongue, and when he drew back, followed it with a bite to his lip. He gave a growl, rolling to pin her beneath him, and a pleased sigh was the response. He rubbed himself against her entrance, throbbing with the need to be inside her. She was wet with her own desire and they gasped as one in delight. Her legs tangled with his as he pressed inside, breath mere pants against the skin of her shoulder. She was hot and tight and for a moment he could only lay still, savoring the feeling.

Belarus shifted beneath him, lips brushing his ear as she spoke. "Move or I'll take off your ear."

"You dropped the knife." He couldn't help but taunt.

"I'll use my teeth."

She bit into his lobe as if to stress the point, and he nipped at her shoulder in retaliation. But it was mere play, and they reconciled by moving. Gasps and moans filled the room as they thrust, slowly at first, but harder and faster before long. Foreplay having already thickened the desire between them close to desperation. The cry of her release was high and keening, and her body tightened around him - making it impossible to hold back his own release. His hips pumped several more times as he poured himself into her, shouting his own release into her neck. It was only as they lay entangled afterwards that he had time to wonder if he'd left her ear ringing from his cry. If he did, she seemed undisturbed by the fact, hands stroking his arms in lazy contentment.

It was the flash of red out of the corner of his eye that reminded him that laying in Belarus's arms until morning wasn't an option. He nuzzled her shoulder before he raised himself up, pulling out of her. Belarus gave another sigh, stretching, before she sat up. A bowl of warm water, once steaming, was on the bedside table. He soaked a washcloth in it briefly, twisting it to wring it out, before he turned back to her - holding out a hand.

Belarus gave him the same amused look as always, before laying her arm in his grasp. He ran the cloth over her arm, washing away the spots of blood and cleansing the tiny cuts he had left on her. He has been equal parts confused and concerned by her amusement at his insistence of caring for any wounds left by their weapon play. Even in a casual affair, he could not imagine being cold enough to allow wounds to go undressed. Yet the concept seemed alien to the other nation. He patted her arm dry before dressing each cut with antibiotic cream and a bandage.

He pressed a kiss to her wrist before he released her arm, and for a moment her eyes clouded. Then she sat up, reaching for a fresh cloth to dip in the bowl of water, and taking his own arm into her hands. His cut was slightly longer than the nicks he'd left on her, as well as slightly deeper. Still shallow, and he'd had far worse wounds from careless accidents than any she had given him.

"You're a strange one." Belarus murmured as she placed a bandage on his cut. And those words by then were also familiar. Her fingers traced the bandage, silent after the words, as if lost in her own thoughts.

His own thoughts wandered as he traced her features with his eyes. Because he'd begun to realize that moments with her were never shadowed by memories of anyone else. Even times with Liechtenstein often reminded him of Austria. But with Belarus no history was dragged up; no long ago memories plagued him. With her there was only her. But then, and his lips quirked in amusement at the thought, what memory of Austria or Liechtenstein could possibly be connected to his time with her?

"Tell me why you're smiling." Belarus demanded suddenly.

His eyes refocused on her, startled by the interruption of his private thoughts. He considered what to answer, before settling on the simplest one. "I was thinking… I enjoy spending time with you."

Belarus studied him suspiciously. "And that is all?"

He shrugged, opening his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted again. But this time the voice came from downstairs.

"Big brother!"

His eyes widened, almost panicked. "Liechtenstein."

Belarus released his arm and they both stood, dragging on discarded clothes hastily. "I thought she was visiting someone."

"She was." Switzerland responded to Belarus's comment.

"Big brother! Are you home?" From the sound of her voice, she must have begun to climb the stairs.

Pants and tank on, Switzerland headed for the door. "Wait a few minutes until I get her back downstairs."

"Cover up your cut!" Came the sharp response.

With a curse he grabbed up his jacket, dragging it onto the bandaged arm before letting himself out of the room. "Liechtenstein." He started down the stairs she was climbing up.

"Big brother, I've been calling."

"I didn't hear you right away." Switzerland excused, noting a basket at the foot of the stairs. "I didn't expect you back tonight." He gestured for her to lead the way back downstairs.

"I was worried about leaving you alone. I brought dinner. It was very inexpensive." Liechtenstein hopped down the final step, grabbing up her basket.

"That's good. It's only..."

A door upstairs opened and closed, and Liechtenstein tilted her head, confused. "Do you have company?"

Switzerland coughed. "Yes, Belarus came to visit."

His surrogate sister peered around him at the other nation as she came downstairs. "Oh! Hello."

"Good evening." Belarus nodded.

"I didn't know we had company. Will you be staying for dinner?"

"I was just leaving." Belarus assured her.

"Oh, but it's good. You should stay." She looked to Switzerland for confirmation of her words.

Giving another cough, he turned to Belarus. "You are welcome to join us."

Belarus hesitated, still a few steps from the bottom of the staircase. She seemed surprised by the offer, and uncertain what to respond. "I suppose… only for dinner."

"I'll set the table!" Liechtenstein dashed off, full of excitement.

Switzerland hesitated as Belarus took the final steps down to the bottom level, then he held out his arm to her. A small smile curved Belarus's lips as she took the formal offer, resting her arm on his. "Next time, my house." She whispered, though she seemed more amused then put off.

Switzerland swallowed a smile of his own as he led her to the dining room.

* * *

They were at the shooting range when she realized she was in love with him. She`d just gotten her third bullseye; he`d only been on two - but it was his turn. Sinewy body held in perfect shooting form, face a mask of concentration. The shot was slightly to the left. She was drawn in anyhow; hands gliding close enough to the gun to feel the heat from the barrel through the leather gloves. Then moving backwards until her hands were finally resting on his own. She pressed her body to his, both of them standing rigidly at attention. They didn’t exchange words; so in synch that explanation was superfluous. They acted as one as they aimed and pulled the trigger. Bullseye.

It was as they basked in the glow of that triumph, smiling and laughing, that it struck her. She was in love with him. Probably had been for months now. And the day was at once brighter and darker. Because she was in lovelove - Love! But what could become of it? This had been meant to be casual. Physical attraction; lust; someone to be with because who they wanted couldn’t or wouldn’t be theirs. She wasn’t some foolish human woman, she told herself. She`d survived centuries of wars and conquests. She could survive this without making herself vulnerable.

Perhaps not feeling as certain with that fact than she believed, she headed home, but found herself outside Ukraine's front door instead. And realizing that not since the early weeks of her affair with Switzerland had she felt the need to find comfort in her sister's cooking and gentle presence. 

She pawed more than knocked at the door, and it opened only a minute or two later. "Belarus." Ukraine's eyes were both understanding and disappointed. "Did brother block your passport again?"

Tempted to point out that it had only been one time, and most likely a misunderstanding, Belarus shook her head instead. "I came for supper."

Ukraine nodded, opening the door wider so she could enter and took her coat. "Brother doesn't hate you, you know that." She patted her shoulder gently. "You just make him nervous."

Not bothering to correct her assumption that Russia was what was bothering her, Belarus headed toward the dining room. "I'll set the table."

"It's because you come across so strong. Maybe you should try being a little bit gentler?" Ukraine's voice drifted in from the kitchen.

"He respects power." Belarus responded, wondering who she was referring to now. Russia, or Switzerland? He hadn't seemed to mind how she'd come onto him. Though it had definitely not been gentle in anyway.

For a brief moment she imagined axing down his door like she'd done to Russia`s once. He wouldn't hide, she decided. He'd probably be standing on the other side with a gun. Maybe even an XCR Light 5.56 Semi-Auto Rifle or something similar. He`d look absolutely delicious and would probably make some sort of quip about sending her the bill for the door and then… then... She didn't know what then.

What he'd do or say if she asked him for more. Would he say yes? Would he not be interested? Too in love with his beloved Liechtenstein and his memories of his younger years with Austria? Would he want to stop seeing her?

"Belarus?" Ukraine interrupted her thoughts. "Is something else bothering you?"

"No." Her response had been too hasty, and Ukraine had given her a suspicious look. "I don't want to think about problems tonight. Let's just eat."

"I'm here… if you want to talk."

"As ever." She replied simply, because it was true. And because she wouldn't say more. Didn't want to be told the two options she already knew were the best choices. Take the risk. Let him go. She couldn't bring herself to risk what she had with him for something more. And she didn't want to let him go, even though moving forward with this new knowledge would only hurt her more. As she curled up in her borrowed room in her sister's house that evening, she felt like a coward for the first time in centuries.

* * *

He was walking with Liechtenstein down a street in Bern when he saw the roses. White as snow. But it wasn't snow and ice that came to mind, but pale skin and violet eyes and white blonde hair. He crossed over to them before he'd realized what he was doing.

"You should buy some for her."

For a moment he believed the words had merely been an echo of his own thoughts. Then he blinked and turned to Liechtenstein. "For who?"

"Don't they remind you of Belarus?" She blinked up at him. "You should invite her to dinner again."

"She was just visiting."

"Then you should invite her to dinner properly."

He coughed, and turned back to the roses. "That's really not something..." He trailed off, and as he stared at the flowers in front of him he was struck by the realization that he wanted to buy the flowers for Belarus.

"What's not something?" Liechtenstein's perplexed frown seemed to be the prick of his own subconscious trying to tell him something.

You didn't buy flowers for a casual lover. For an on again and off again affair. Except they'd been more on than off for months. They exchanged emails as casually as touches. And the time she had stayed for dinner...

"Why can't you invite her out to dinner?"

"It would complicate things." He turned away from the flowers, struggling with a thought trying to make itself known.

"What things?"

"Relations. Relations get complicated that way."

"But you already have relations with her."

Much closer relations than he should. Full of soft skin and heated kisses. Gentle touches, and touches of red blood.

"That's not the same thing."

"Then what is? You aren't making sense. Don't you like her?"

A wit as sharp her knife, a sureness of character that equaled the steady hands that held her gun. A wickedness, and a grief.

"I don't love..." And he'd frozen to a stop on a street corner, facing his surrogate sister who's startled look was fast becoming less startled and more excited.

"You love her?"

And that was when he realized it was true. Which was both startling and immensely relieving. As if acknowledging a truth he'd known but had danced around. "I'm in love with her."

"You should get her those flowers." Liechtenstein gestured back the way they'd come.

"And chocolates." Switzerland gave a nod, beginning to warm to the notion.

"If you're going to court her, you should ask her family. Ukraine is her sister, right?"

Ask her family. That made sense. He didn't see Ukraine saying no.

"And her brother is..."

Liechtenstein's face paled and he stared at her for a moment, before what she'd been saying sunk in. "Is Russia." Liechtenstein had been playing the part of his subconscious, but his mind seemed to have recovered enough to take it's role up again. It replayed the realization and added to it. Belarus's brother was Russia. Their romance was most likely doomed before it even began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's an old "When You" joke. When you look up so much weaponry the government is tracking your ISP. This was the fic that made it possible for me to apply it to myself.


	3. Chapter 3

The chocolates arrived with a card and a quote. 'When the heart speaks, its language is the same under all latitudes.'

She arrived at Switzerland's house within a few hours of receiving them. The first thing she did was tell him, "I don't like chocolates." The second thing she did was kiss him.

Both were honest, together they made no sense. He didn't seem to care, and kissed her back, pulling her tight against him. Tongues entwined, teeth touching, for a moment all she could think about was Switzerland's taste, and the warmth of his body against hers.

"Door." He murmured against her lips, and she had time to realize their passionate moment had been in his front doorway with the door open. He pulled her farther inside, shutting the door and kissing her again.

His hands were hot even through her dress, but she pulled back briefly, trying to regain her senses. "Liechtenstein?"

"She's not home." Switzerland pressed his lips to her neck, and she gave in, wrapping an arm around him.

She paused when she felt cold metal under her hands instead of his back. "Rifle?" She felt her lips curl into a smirk.

"It's an Uzi." Switzerland whispered into her ear. "9mm."

She tugged at the strap that was slung across his body. "Let me have it."

"It's loaded." His lips traveled down her neck.

"All the better."

"They're dummy bullets."

"Now you're just ruining it for me on purpose."

Switzerland pulled back, slinging off the rifle and for a moment pointing it at her. Belarus watched him, feeling her lips tug upwards, and not feeling the slightest bit threatened. Something inside was surprised by the calm in her, but over the months of their affair, her trust in him had become stronger and stronger. The idea that she had once not had such trust in him was almost an alien thought. He pulled two bullets from the gun, and a spark in his eyes made heat roll through her, then he was offering her the handle of the rifle.

She took it with delight, hands caressing the metal of the weapon for a moment. Then she laid it against his neck, before stroking downward - a light touch full of promise. She saw his breath speed up, and she dipped it further, sliding past his belt to stroke against his hardening member through his pants. One of his hands reached out to grip her shoulder, pulling her closer. The gun was trapped between them, and she moved it carefully, rubbing it's ridges against his groin, before grinding into the gun herself.

With a growl, he pushed her forward - bruising her lips with a fierce kiss. The gun was still trapped between them, and she felt him grind against it as well, and matched her thrusts with his. His tongue slid against her own tongue, explored along the ridges of her teeth as they continued to rut against the hard metal, bodies growing tight with desire.

Finally she broke the kiss - shoving him back and pointing the uzi at him, eyes flashing. "Upstairs." She demanded.

Switzerland smirked, but slowly backed away, keeping his eyes on her as she kept the gun trained on him. The walk up the stairs felt far too long with the need so thick between them. Switzerland paused by the bed, and she saw he'd managed to retain his hold on the bullets. Licking her lips in anticipation, she slowly set the gun down on the bed. They moved slower than either expected at that moment - clothes falling to the floor piece by piece. Than he was pressing her into the bed, lips nipping at her neck. hand moving with a sureness to her wet opening. Something cool was slid into her, and she gasped - walls tightening around it. A second was nudged in alongside the first and a groan escaped her lips.

"The bullets." He murmured, then he rolled - bringing her on top of him at the same time as sitting up, balancing her on one of his knees. She had only just adjusted to the position when he bounced the leg. She gave a cry as the bullets moved with the motion, rubbing against the walls of her passage. He gave her only a moment's reprieve, then he was bouncing the leg continuously - and she could only cling onto his shoulders - nails digging into his skin.

The bullets jostled inside of her, sliding against each other and stroking her passage with each movement of Switzerland's leg. She felt her body growing tighter and tighter with need, the bouncing so fast there was no break from sensation. His own hands were on her waist, and she twisted in his grip, cries escaping her lips as he brought her closer and closer to release. Suddenly the motion stopped and he was rolling her beneath him again.

She gave a cry that was half relief, half protest, at the lack of sensation. His fingers slid into her again, withdrawing the bullets slowly. She moaned at the empty feeling, body screaming to be filled, and the next moment he was pushing inside her - a pulsing heat. She ground against him, and he cried out - obviously just as desperate as she was by now.

They struggled to find a rhythm, both of their thoughts clouded with physical hunger. It wasn't so much as finding their way in synch as falling into it. Suddenly thrusting in perfect timing - shouts and screams and heated kisses as he filled her time and again, hard and fast and perfect. Release was shattering, and she felt herself buck beneath his weight, only vaguely aware of milking him to his own release as he continued to thrust in and out.

Afterwards, they lay in silence, basking in the pleasant feelings still thrumming through their bodies, and the warmth of lying in each other's arms. Neither of them seemed quite ready to say anything about the cause of this particular time. Chocolates and flowers instead of simple convenience. Less certain of the other's intentions in hindsight, she waited until she felt his breath deepen into what seemed to be sleep, then slipped out of his arms.

Even as she redressed, her eyes slid to him. Blonde hair mussed from their activities, pale skin aglow in the lamp light. Unable to resist, she leaned over to press a kiss to his mouth. "But I do like flowers." She whispered, as if completing the sentence she'd spoken hours before now.

She turned to leave, but was frozen when a hand caught hers, and she turned back - startled - to find his eyes wide awake and looking right at her. "I'll remember." He pressed his lips to her knuckles, releasing her hand afterwards.

Caught off-guard, Belarus retreated out of the room. It wasn't until she was safely back at her own house that she allowed herself time to consider that promise, and revel in it.

* * *

  
The roses were white. A simple half dozen, not some vulgar large bouquet. The best part was they still had their thorns.

"Lithuania must be trying a new tactic." Ukraine commented when she saw the bouquet at her seat.

"Lithuania sends red roses. And he has them dethorned." Belarus made no attempt to mask her contempt. It was symbolic to her - the two tokens of affection. It spoke of how the gifters viewed her. A pretty defenseless flower; a dangerous beauty.

"If not Lithuania, then who?" Ukraine asked.

Rather than answer, Belarus pressed her thumb to a large thorn. A flash of pain, and a prick of blood followed. Ignoring Ukraine`s wail of complaint at her action, she placed her thumb in her mouth - looking around the room. Switzerland was at his seat, watching her. When their eyes met, she saw his lips quirk, and felt her own twitch in response. It was definitely a good start to the day.

* * *

  
The meeting itself was forgettable. Or, at the very least, held no special place in his memory. That was probably less to do with the meeting being so unimpressive, and more to do with being distracted by his own thoughts. He`d contemplated where and when to approach Belarus`s siblings. Had even debated about inviting them to his house to hold the conversation. In the end, though, he`d chosen a more direct approach. He`d contemplated Belarus`s reaction as well, and was confident in her answer, though the setting might or might not displease her. He`d decided the risk was worth the gain. Amid the chaos of the first conference break, he pulled another white rose from his bag, and moved across the room before the three could move apart.

"Belarus."

Her eyes widened slightly, before narrowing in thought. "Switzerland."

He held up the rose in offering. "Love is the emblem of eternity; it confounds all notions of time; effaces all memory of a beginning; all fear of an end." The previous chaos in the room seemed to suddenly disappear.

Belarus made him wait, though there was a spark in her eye that gave her away, at least to him. "Is that the best love poem you could come up with?" She challenged.

"Do you wish me to read you more?" He returned.

Belarus`s lips twitched, and when she reached out, instead of taking the rose, she rested her hand on his. "Much more."

Never taking his eyes from her, Switzerland spoke to her sibling nations. "Russia. Ukraine, I would like to have personal relations with your sister."

The silence that followed was deafening. A hand was placed over theirs, and a slight pressure forced them to part. Belarus turned a glare on the Ukraine, who Switzerland was surprised to notice was the one for the action. "I think we should continue this conversation in private. Right, brother?"

"Da. Private would be best." Russia`s smile was chilling as ever.

"Belarus, stay here." Ukraine ordered, but was met with a defiant glower.

"I will not."

Before it turned into an argument, Switzerland held out the rose again. "Many, many more." He promised.

Taking the rose, Belarus gave a dismissive gesture, before reseating herself at the conference table. Switzerland was certain he looked more confident than he felt, as he followed the two outside.

* * *

Belarus was still contemplating the single white rose when the chairs on either side of her were pulled out, and occupied. She was not surprised by Liechtenstein's presence, but a little startled by Austria's. After glancing to confirm the identities of who had interrupted her solitude, she turned her eyes back to the rose. "You should speak if you have something to say."

"Though it is unspoken of between us, I owe Switzerland much." Austria was the first to speak.

Belarus sniffed. "I am aware of the fact."

"If he were to be made unhappy, I would be most displeased."

"Should I feel concerned over this?"

The bouquet was on the table. Austria reached over a gloved hand, and casually snapped off one of the thorns. Belarus stared at the flowers for a moment, before turning to meet his gaze. Behind his glasses, his eyes were hard. "Only if you make him unhappy."

"I'm not as good at weapons as you or brother." Liechtenstein spoke up suddenly, interrupting before she could think of a response.

Belarus frowned at this announcement, and turned to the petite nation, a scowl darkening her features. "And so?"

"But I know lots of lawyers. I'm ever so good with laws." Liechtenstein kept her eyes forward as she spoke. "In modern times, laws can be just as dangerous as armies. Trade sanctions and product bans. That sort of thing. Understand?" There was nothing particularly threatening about the way she was speaking, but what her words implied made a threatening tone unnecessary.

Belarus turned her eyes back to the flower. "If I desired to make him unhappy, I would have done so already."

"Good!" Liechtenstein smiled brightly. "Welcome to the family."

Belarus decided that Switzerland had it easy with her siblings.

* * *

  
"Thank-you. Thank-you. Thank-you. Thank-you." Russia was shaking Switzerland's hand.

"Brother." Ukraine looked ready to hit the larger nation.

"Ah, it is good, though. Belarus seemed happy. Da?"

"That's not the point!" Ukraine began to sniffle. "Aren't you worried about our little sister's honor and well being? What's a big sister to do?"

Switzerland blinked. "I only wish to make Belarus happy."

"That is good. But do not keep axes by the bedroom door." Russia offered.

Switzerland decided three things. Some questions were not meant to be asked. The idea of Belarus with an axe was a tempting concept. Some things were not meant to be shared with your lover's siblings. "I'll...remember that."

Ukraine stamped her foot to draw attention to herself. "If you make Belarus cry, we'll make you regret it!" She threatened.

"That would be bad." Russia nodded, still smiling "I would have to break every bone in your body, and that would be a long process."

"And I'd hold you down so he could do it."

"I will do my best." Switzerland promised, bowing to the two. Despite the slight tremor of fear he felt at the final threat, he had to admit the conversation had gone better than expected.

* * *

  
Belarus was seriously contemplating tracking down her lover and siblings, and was beginning to wonder if the former was currently being beaten into a bloody corpse, when the three finally returned to the conference room. She was on her feet, checking for missing limbs before she realized her reaction. Switzerland smiled at her, and she felt her own lips curve upwards. The conference would be reconvening any moment, but he took her hand and pulled her to one side anyhow.

"How were my siblings?" She asked him.

"Reasonable." He assured her. "I don't suppose-"

"You have frightening friends. I approve."

The smile that passed between them was smug. "Have I ever told you I have a straight blade black oxidized hand axe?" Switzerland whispered.

Belarus smirked. "How does it handle?"

"Perhaps you'd like to try it out sometime."

Rather than answer in words, she wrapped her hand around his neck and drug him down to seal the offer with a kiss.


End file.
